


Vitally Alive and Undoubtedly Inhabited

by alatariel_gildaen



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, i finally did that HEA!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alatariel_gildaen/pseuds/alatariel_gildaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after Strange and Norrell disappear into Faerie in the Tower of Darkness, they find a way to break the curse and return to England. Strange and Arabella pick up exactly where they left off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vitally Alive and Undoubtedly Inhabited

Strange shuddered as he pulled the curtains closed, catching a glimpse of his own reflection in the darkened windows. The sight of himself surrounded by night-time was one of the very worst images to dwell upon, and his body tensed against the familiar shakes that plagued him whenever he thought too long on his imprisonment.

After swallowing his fears and telling himself not to be so foolish, he turned around to the welcoming cheerfulness of his room.

He had never been especially frugal with candles, but now the servants had been instructed to ensure that they filled the room with light, so that not a single dark corner or shadow remained. Indeed, despite the lateness of the hour on this cold, winter’s night, the drawing room at Ashfair was as warm and bright as a summer’s day. 

The walls were rather more bare than they once were. All the mirrors in the house had been removed and destroyed at Strange’s request. He repressed another shudder as he recalled how when he and Norrell had finally found a way to escape the Tower of Darkness, it had desperately tried to drag them back into Faerie. Their means of escaping it had almost been their final undoing. All the time spent Elsewhere and in the company of fairies had led Strange to begin to think more like one of their race, and less like an Englishman. And so he had begun to view the Tower as having its own living mind, and a will that could only be appeased by holding himself and Norrell captive. But if indeed the Tower was capable of rudimentary thought, then surely it could be tricked…

Strange had hypothesised that the Tower was designed to hold the English Magician captive. But it could not tell _who_ the magician was; this much was evidenced by the fact that Norrell could not escape either. It was highly possible therefore that the Tower could only register their _power_. So if they could find a way to place their power temporarily in something else, perhaps the Tower would turn its sight away from them.

Norrell had argued vehemently against the idea. He recounted once again (and much to Strange’s annoyance) the tale of the Master of Nottingham’s daughter. He reminded Strange that setting _any_ amount of a magician’s power into an object was dangerous and foolhardy, but to give it _all_ up was utter madness.

In the end, Strange did what he had always done, and went against Norrell’s wishes. While Norrell slept, he worked to place all of his power into the statue of Martin Pale that Norrell still kept, and once it was done he stumbled, exhausted, away from Hurtfew Abbey. 

He knew it had worked almost immediately. There was no magic dragging him backwards to the epicentre of the Tower- to where Norrell lay sleeping. And then, suddenly, with no ceremony whatsoever, he was in daylight. He looked up to the cold, grey sky and fell to his knees, tears in his eyes. Even the eerie and otherworldly landscape of Faerie looked to his eyes like heaven now that it was painted with day. 

He felt as though he could have stayed forever, bathing in the dreary grey light that was so prevalent around Faerie, but as soon as he had composed himself, he ran back to Norrell and awoke him with the simple words, “It worked.”

Norrell’s anger was predictable enough, but it could not dissuade Strange from his present course of action, and eventually Norrell found it easier to help rather than hinder. They spent many, many months researching Objects of Power, finding ways to transfer the magic from one object to another and return to them. They spent just as long opening doors in the world and finding ways to keep them open once they had passed their magic on until, finally, they were ready. 

The theory was that they first would open a gateway to England, then transfer all of their power to a single object. They had decided they would open the gateway first, in case they were unable to retrieve their transferred powers. A time limit would be placed upon the object, whereupon the magic would split in half and transfer to two separate objects, a great distance apart. These would then separate again, and again, and again, until the Tower could no longer recognise their individual magic amongst the background magic of Faerie. Strange theorised that once their magic was invisible against that of Faerie, the Tower would dissipate into nothingness, as it would as if they were dead. Once that happened, they had placed an overall spell of Pathfinding upon the various objects that would deliver their magic back to them and allow them to make their escape. 

Mr Norrell seemed to delight in reminding Strange that they would likely get only one single attempt, and that if they failed, they were likely to be trapped in Faerie forever without any magic to protect them. If he felt that his rather impassioned plea would change Strange's mind, he was entirely mistaken. 

Firstly they transported Hurtfew Abbey safely back to Yorkshire. Once again, Norrell protested with all his might, which led Strange to believe that Norrell thought they were doomed to failure. It was only Strange’s own confidence in the magic, and his reminder that once they were back in England, they would more than likely never again be able to return to Faerie that persuaded Norrell to agree to his precious library being moved.

Norrell began by opening a path between Faerie and Hurtfew. He walked halfway between worlds in order to keep the path open, then transferred all of his power to a glass vial which he gave to Strange. Time was then entirely of the essence. Strange hurried to a good distance away - just in case the Tower realised that it was being tricked - and set the spells in motion.

He returned to Norrell just in time to witness the bizarre and terrifying spectacle. At first the Tower grew and grew in order to encompass all the various Objects of Power that Strange and Norrell had hidden about the lands. Then, with a thunderous crack, the Tower broke. The shadows that made it flew apart and attached themselves to other dark places, creeping and sliding across the landscape until they were hidden from sight.

“We should leave,” said Strange, as he watched the shadows apprehensively.

“Without our magic?” replied Norrell. “I do not know if that is wise.”

“Nevertheless. We should leave,” repeated Strange, forcing Norrell forwards. 

As they travelled along the dark path between Faerie and England, they felt their magic return to them. And at that moment, some of the shadows noticed them. Strange felt their pitch black, hollow sights fall upon him with some curiosity. Some of them reached out towards him. Some grasped at his ankles and tried to trip him. Some wrapped around his wrists and tried to pull him backwards. Some, seeing that he was making his escape, thought to try and end it entirely, and twisted themselves around his throat. But he thought of Arabella and fought and struggled until at long last he fell from the mirror into a stream of bright sunlight. Norrell was beside him on the floor, panting and gasping for breath. Strange turned and saw thin tendrils of Darkness beginning to emerge from the mirror. He picked up the nearest object to him – a candlestick – and hurled it towards the mirror’s surface. As it smashed into a thousand pieces, the few shadows that were coming for him dissipated in the bright sunlight. He could not rest until all the mirrors at Hurtfew had received a similar treatment. He felt the same way on his return to Ashfair.

Shaking away the terrible memories, Strange brought himself back to the present. Aside from the increased light, and the lack of reflective surfaces, his old drawing room was very little changed from how he remembered it prior to being trapped in Eternal Night. With one more very notable exception. 

While he and the room, indeed the whole of Ashfair House and its grounds, had stayed very much the same, Arabella had aged. Not significantly - but while he had not seemed to age more than a day or two in Faerie, ten years had passed in England, so that Arabella now appeared closer to Strange’s own age. But more than that; there was a certain radiance about her that made her already natural beauty shine brighter than all the candles in the world. As she sat crocheting a delicate white blanket, she smiled to herself, as if she possessed the most wonderful secret in all the world.

“What is it, Bell?” he asked her

She looked up from her work. “What is what?”

You were smiling.”

“Was I? I was unaware.”

He watched her for a few moments longer. She drew her bottom lip in, biting it very slightly as if to prevent her secret-smile from becoming joyous laughter. “What are you thinking of?” he probed her once more. 

“Perhaps I am just happy to have my husband back by my side, with no wars, no rescues, and no fairies to steal either of us away again.”

“It has been four months, Bell. I am certain my lack of useful occupation will very soon irritate you.”

“Jonathan! Do not say such things!” But despite the provocation her tone was still light and playful. She carefully put down the needle, wool, and half-finished blanket and added, “Do you still intend to never do practical magic again?”

“I shall never say never. But I do not see that I need to. England is full of magicians now. What is it to her if one of them, absent for a decade, ceases to practice?”

Arabella’s smile widened further, and Strange found that her hidden joy was infectious. He had, for his entire banishment from England, been filled with a dreadful longing, a constant ache to be by Arabella’s side, and this yearning overtook him once more. He sat upon the chaise-longue and indicated that she should come and sit with him.  
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer towards him, and placed a series of gentle, chaste kisses along the elegant lines of her neck. She sighed and melted further into his embrace, entwining her fingers with his. 

“Jonathan…”she whispered seductively, and in response he deepened his kisses, while running his hand over the gentle curve and slope of her hips and waist. She shifted slightly in his lap, and in doing so caused a delicious friction against his rapidly hardening length. He groaned in pleasure, and rolled his hips forward to increase the exquisite pressure. “Oh, Jonathan…” she repeated, her eyes falling closed as, in between open mouthed kisses, his tongue laved the sweet spot just behind her ear. His hand left her hip and waist behind, and travelled further up her body, tenderly cupping and squeezing her breast. “Jonathan…” 

“Yes, my love?” he said, not ceasing his insistent ministrations for a moment. 

“Jonathan, wait…” She pulled away from him and turned in the seat to face him. A pink flush coloured her cheeks, making her more beautiful than ever. The smile that she had tried to keep hidden had returned in full force. 

“What is it?” he asked her.

“I have some news for you.”

“Then I hope it is very good news, if you deem it worthy enough to interrupt my affections for you.” he said.

Her smile widened and she nodded demurely. “I believe so,” she said, and she took his hand in her own. “Do you recall the very last conversation you and I had, before that monster stole me away from you?”

Jonathan thought hard. “Not exactly, Bell. It has been more than a decade, and I confess that my thoughts may have been otherwise occupied.” He leaned in towards her, and captured her lips in a slow kiss. She tasted of the hot, spiced wine they had imbibed after dinner and he gave a small growl of approval deep in his throat. “Indeed,” he said between kisses, “they are otherwise occupied right now.”

He released his hand from her grip and gently cradled the back of her head, then ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth to him. He had an appetite that could only be sated by her, and he held on to her as if he would cease to breathe if he let go. As she pulled away from him once more he could not help the frustrated whine that escaped his lips. 

“Jonathan,” she gasped, trying to regain her breath. “You did not let me finish.”

“And you are reciprocating that feeling very well indeed.”

She ignored his exasperation and took his hand once more in her own. “Jonathan, you may not remember, but I do. I remember it as clear as day. We had spoken of starting a family. And…” She paused, and placed his hand over her belly. “I think I may be carrying your child.”

The world stopped for a moment as Strange tried to process the words. He glanced over at the pristine white blanket that Arabella had been crocheting, and it suddenly registered how very small the blanket was. Far too small to be of any use to either of them. Somewhere within him a seed of untold jubilation grew and bloomed. “A child?” he asked, as Arabella nodded and laughed. “I am to be a father?” 

She nodded once more and Strange leapt to his feet, pulling her up with him. He picked her up and spun her around once, kissing her exuberantly over and over. Nothing else mattered anymore. The shadow that had hung over them for so long was gone. All their lost time, the wasted years, the heartache and tears, simply no longer mattered. They had years left together, to be united, to be a family. And to be happy.

At that moment, he felt as though he could have faced the Darkness all over again for a thousand years, and still walked away smiling.


End file.
